Jason: Kevin, please tell me you haven’t picked that black shirt for Daniel’s engagement party.
Kevin: I have. Why? Does it clash with my personality?
Jason: Very funny. Black at a celebration? In Hong Kong? That’s practically asking the universe to ruin the marriage before it even begins!
Kevin: Wow. I didn’t realize the universe had a dress code.
Jason: Don’t joke about this! Black and white are associated with funerals and mourning in Chinese culture. You wear bright colours to weddings and celebrations. Red means happiness, gold means prosperity. You don’t bring funeral colours to a happy occasion.
Kevin: I understand the cultural association. But how does wearing a black shirt actually affect Daniel’s marriage?
Jason: It’s about bad luck! These traditions exist for a reason. My aunt wore a white dress to a relative’s birthday dinner once. A few weeks later, her business suffered a huge loss. Since then, she refuses to wear white to celebrations.
Kevin: Wait. Her business suffered a loss weeks later, and you’re connecting it to her dress?
Jason: I’m telling you what happened!
Kevin: I’m not disputing what happened. I’m questioning whether one event caused the other. Did she lose money because she wore white, or did something happen in the economy, or did a customer cancel a contract?
Jason: I don’t know all the details. But why take the risk when you can simply wear another colour?
Kevin: That’s actually a more interesting argument. If avoiding white makes your aunt feel comfortable and costs her nothing, fine. But that’s different from claiming white caused her financial problems.
Jason: You scientists always want evidence for everything. Some things are about respecting tradition, not running laboratory experiments.
Kevin: Fair point. Traditions can have cultural value even without scientific evidence. I’m not suggesting we wear funeral clothes to a wedding just to prove a point. I’m saying colours don’t possess some invisible power to cause misfortune.
Jason: Then explain this. Last year, I wore a white shirt to a friend’s birthday banquet. That same evening, I spilled soup on myself, missed the last MTR train, and had to pay for a taxi. Three disasters in one night!
Kevin: Three disasters? You spilled soup on your shirt, missed a train, and paid extra for transport. That’s a terrible evening, but hardly a supernatural curse.
Jason: You make it sound so ordinary!
Kevin: Because it probably was. Let’s reverse the situation. How many times have you worn black or white and had a perfectly normal day?
Jason: Plenty of times.
Kevin: And how many times have you worn red and still had a bad day?
Jason: …Occasionally.
Kevin: There you go. We tend to remember the events that confirm what we already believe and forget the ones that don’t. Psychologists call this confirmation bias. If something bad happens after you wear white, you remember the shirt. If nothing happens, you don’t even think about it.
Jason: So you’re saying my brain is making things up?
Kevin: Not exactly. Your experiences are real. It’s the explanation you’re attaching to them that might be mistaken. Our brains are excellent at finding patterns, even when two things are unrelated.
Jason: Fine. But Chinese funeral traditions aren’t imaginary. White has historically been associated with mourning. Surely that means something.
Kevin: Absolutely. Cultural symbols mean something because people collectively give them meaning. In many Chinese communities, white is traditionally associated with mourning, and black can also carry sombre associations. Wearing those colours to a joyful event might make some guests uncomfortable. That’s a real social consequence.
Jason: Exactly! Finally, some common sense.
Kevin: Hold on. That doesn’t prove the colours cause bad luck. It proves that people interpret colours through cultural expectations. In another setting, a black suit might be perfectly appropriate for a formal celebration. And white is traditional wedding attire in many Western cultures.
Jason: So the same white dress can mean mourning in one setting and marriage in another?
Kevin: Yes. The meaning depends on culture and context. If white itself carried an inherent force of misfortune, why would its meaning change across societies?
Jason: Maybe different cultures have different kinds of luck.
Kevin: And maybe humans invented different explanations for the world around them.
Jason: You’re impossible.
Kevin: Yet you keep inviting me to dinner.
Jason: Because someone has to stop you from wearing that black shirt to Daniel’s engagement party!
Kevin: All right, here’s a compromise. I’ll wear a blue shirt. You can relax, Daniel’s relatives won’t be offended, and I won’t have to pretend that my wardrobe controls the future.
Jason: Blue? That’s acceptable. But wear something red next time. Red brings happiness.
Kevin: I’ll wear red if I like it. And if Daniel’s marriage lasts fifty years, I’ll congratulate the couple, not my shirt.
Jason: What if they divorce?
Kevin: Then I suppose you’ll blame my blue shirt.
Jason: Obviously. I knew you were a bad influence.
Kevin: And I knew you were superstitious. At least one of us has a reliable prediction record.
Jason: Which one?
Kevin: I predicted you’d argue with me for twenty minutes about a shirt. And here we are.
Jason: You know what? Just wear the blue shirt.
Kevin: Done. But I’m wearing black socks.
Jason: KEVIN!
Kevin: Relax. They’re hidden. Unless the universe has X-ray vision, we’re safe.
Jason: I’m never inviting you to another celebration.
Kevin: That’s fine. Just don’t wear white to my farewell party.
Jason: You’re not having a farewell party!
Kevin: See? Now that’s bad luck.
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